Prince Harry demonstrates perfect “downward balancing” at Kelly Slater’s 50k-a-day Surf Ranch

Prince Harry demonstrates that elusive, almost metaphysical state in which the body surrenders to gravity without ever yielding to it.

Put aside the tragic moral conflict of Prince Harry’s life and even the hardest heart must concede, the Duke of Sussex and fifth in line to the decaying British throne, ain’t so bad when it comes to downward balancing, as surfers call it, when riding the tube. 

The forty-one-old red-headed prodigal son of King Charles, who was a gunner on an Apache chopper during his tour of Afghanistan in 2013 and who put fatal slugs into at least 25 fundamentalist Taliban bastards, first started surfing five years ago after a gift of surfing lessons from his wife, the television actress Meghan Markle.

Prince Harry and fam had decamped from the near failed state of Britain to the polished wealthy enclave of Montecito and a short drive from Dane Reynolds’ new Chapter 11 surf store.

In earlier sessions at the Ranch, Prince Harry showed remarkable poise, something that eludes many for an entire lifetime. 

Prince Harry and the concept of downward balancing

In his latest clip, Prince Harry demonstrates “downward balancing” that elusive, almost metaphysical state in which the body surrenders to gravity without ever yielding to it.

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The concept is deceptively simple: the surfer drops the center of gravity straight down through deeply bent knees, compressing the lower body like a coiled spring while keeping the spine straight and the waist unbent.

There is no forward hunch, no defensive crouch at the hips; the torso remains upright, chest proud, eyes fixed on the exit light. The knees act as the fulcrum, absorbing the wave’s chaotic energy and translating it into poise. Bend at the waist, and the balance fractures—the board wobbles, the line drifts, and the tube spits you out like an afterthought.

This posture is the secret architecture of the greatest tube rides. Kelly Slater, whose name is synonymous with barrel mastery, has long embodied downward balancing. Watch him thread Pipeline or Teahupo’o: knees compressed to near absurdity, back ramrod straight, he rides the pocket as if gravity bends to his will rather than the reverse. Nat Young, too, channels this discipline in his powerful, committed barrels—his lower body sinks low while the upper remains composed, allowing him to hold speed and line through sections that would unseat lesser surfers.

Downward balancing is more than technique; it is a kind of Zen athleticism, demanding trust in the knees to bear the load and faith that an upright core will keep the rider centered amid hydraulic fury. Master it, and the tube becomes less a gamble than a conversation—one the wave is finally willing to have.

Phew!